


Wolfnip

by novaberry



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Rape/Non-con Elements, Unsafe Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-19
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-23 23:12:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/932201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novaberry/pseuds/novaberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PWP w/ Scott (in heat) as the catalyst for Derek/Stiles. Written shortly after (or maybe during?) Season 1, so this Derek is harder than the one we now know, while Stiles is softer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wolfnip

Stiles is dead asleep when Derek climbs through his window. The Sheriff's on patrol, so Derek doesn't bother trying to be quiet as he moves to the bed and yanks the blankets back, getting a noseful of Stiles' distinct scent. He flushes, not expecting Stiles to smell so good, all sleep-warm and sweaty. 

He grabs one bony shoulder, claws edging through the kid's t-shirt, and Stiles jerks awake with a stuttered cry.

"Get up!" Derek grunts, stepping back to let him sit up.

"Derek?" Stiles squints at him in the darkness, his face soft and open in sleepy confusion, and Derek really does not have time for this. He grabs a pair of jeans from the floor and tosses them at Stiles.

"Yes! Now, come on. Scott needs you!" Sure enough, dropping Scott's name is all it takes to get Stiles moving.

"Oh!" He jumps up, but his legs are tangled in the bedsheets and Derek has to dart in and catch him. "Sorry," he mutters, shoving away from Derek once his feet are clear. Derek can feel the heat of the kid's blush, can't help but smirk.

Stiles hastily dresses, waking up enough in the process to start barraging Derek with questions: "Where are we going? What's wrong with Scott? Is he injured? Did he hurt someone--"

"Just shut up and tie your shoes. Don't need you breaking your neck before we even get to him."

 ***

Stiles' mouth is a problem. Has been from day one, but Derek (somehow) manages not to forcibly shut him up as they head back to the remains of the Hale house. Derek doesn't like it, but he'd been forced to chain Scott up in the basement before he left. The moment Stiles sees the state of his best friend, the kid finally goes quiet. He looks between Scott--who's naked, wolfed out and snarling at them--and Derek, eyes gone big and wary, troublesome mouth dropped open in shock.

"Why is he naked? And uh, h-how--" Stiles' voice breaks on the question. "How am I supposed to help with _this_?"

"He destroyed his clothes, he's in heat. He needs to fuck someone." Derek meets Stiles' gaze, holds it hard. "Anyone."

Stiles blinks and even in the flickering torchlight, Derek sees the blood drain from his face. He stares at Derek until Scott snarls and lunges at them, seems to shake the entire room. Stiles shoots his best friend a horrified look and shifts closer to Derek. He's sweating in earnest now, his slight frame trembling, and Derek almost feels bad for him.

"Derek," he whispers. "I can't. He'll hate me! And besides, I-I've never--"

"Never been fucked by a werewolf?" Derek offers, smiling sharply. "There's a first time for everything and don't worry, no way would he hate you for doing this. Huh. He might even start using your name as a password. You know, depending on how it goes."

"Ha HA." The kid glares at him. "Yeah, now's _definitely_ the time to be making jokes. Why don't you just let him stick it in you?"

Now it's Derek's turn to glare. Scott growls again, this time mournful, desperate, and Stiles yields, thick lashes dipping as he drops Derek's gaze. He grabs Derek's arm though, slender fingers digging at the muscle beneath Derek's jacket, and says, "Derek, I really can't. I've never had sex _at all_."

Derek doesn't like to admit what it does to him when Stiles is laid bare like this, all the cocky teenager knocked out of him. Derek doesn't like how it makes his gut go warm, sends a pleasant jolt to his dick. So he shrugs Stiles off and lays the truth on him.

"If you don't do it, he's going to go after Allison. Do you really want that to happen?"

Stiles covers his face, moaning, "Oh God, okay. FINE."

***

"Wait, you're going to _watch_?"

"Yes, Stiles! And I might have to do more than watch, just to keep you from being dismembered. I hope that's okay?"

Stiles doesn't seem to know how to respond to that, but Derek's too busy rearranging Scott's cuffs to be bothered with Stiles' whining anyway. Scott is really far gone, further than Derek's ever seen, and he knows it's 'cause the kid's put off mating for too long. Derek secures the wrist cuffs low on the wall, letting Scott sit back against it, one ankle chained to posts on the floor.

He stands, tugging a small tube from his pocket. "All right, lose the pants and underwear, and get yourself ready with this."

After another round of gaping, stuttering and blushing, Stiles turns away and strips down to his jacket, shirt and tube socks, but after a second, he takes the jacket off and ties it around his waist. Derek rolls his eyes when Stiles faces him again, but Stiles just stares at the lube like he has no idea what to do.

"Jesus, Stiles! Put it in your ass, okay? Unless you want him to tear you!"

Stiles blanches and lets out a hysterical laugh.

"Wow, thanks. You sure know how to set the mood." He uncaps the lube and then reaches behind himself, like he's just going to stick the tube up there. Derek grabs his wrist, shakes him.

"What the fuck are you doing? Slick your fingers and then stick them in your ass."

"Oh! Yeah okay, that makes sense, but also: sticking my fingers up my ass? Gross."

Derek claps a hand over his eyes. This is going to be a long fucking night.

***

Derek moves to the far end of the room, but can still see/smell/hear everything as Stiles finally starts impaling himself on his friend's dick. He has no choice. He has to keep a close eye on them, has be ready if Stiles needs him. He keeps telling himself that as his blood begins to rush, his own dick fattening up when Stiles cries out, taking just the tip of Scott into his tight little hole. The kid has skinny fingers, so Derek knows he wasn't able to get himself stretched out enough, even two wouldn't cut it. If Derek had stepped in then--and God, he'd been tempted--he'd have worked Stiles open good and wide. Gotten him loose enough that it may even have felt good when he sank down onto Scott.

He watches Stiles cling to his wolfed-out bff's shoulders, struggling to take him, with Scott snarling and grunting, but thankfully not nipping at Stiles. Scott's hips jump, like he's trying to force himself deeper, and Stiles' head drops back, a choked-off cry slipping free. Derek's mouth floods wet and he licks his teeth, feels that they've gone sharp, long. He edges closer, eyes riveted to the pale, smooth curves of Stiles' ass, the thick, purpled erection straining to get inside.

Suddenly Scott howls, arching sharply, and loses a hot, messy load, covering Stiles' ass. Stiles freezes and then starts laughing, right in Scott's face and if Derek couldn't move so fast, the kid might've lost his head. Luckily, he's able to get an arm around Stiles' waist and lift him, falling back with the half-naked kid in his lap, just in time. Scott's teeth close on the air where Stiles' slender neck had been a millisecond before.

Derek's half wolfed-out himself when he growls at Stiles, "What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have a death wish?"

The kid sags back into him and Derek is suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that Stiles' naked, come-splattered, mostly-virgin ass is resting atop his throbbing dick. Derek gasps and holds Stiles tighter, rutting up against him instinctively.

Stiles jerks in shock and Scott howls.

"Shit!" Derek shoves Stiles to the ground and jumps to his feet. "Get back on him. That was just round one. And for fuck's sake, no more laughing in his face, no matter what!"

***

In the end, Derek has to help. At least, that's how he's going to choose to remember it. The truth is, he had no idea how sweet Stiles would be, how hot he'd look, sitting on someone's dick. How good he'd smell. Scott gets all the way into him on round three and Stiles moans, sounding broken, but when Derek darts forward, he finds the kid's erection bobbing just beneath the hem of his t-shirt. It's smooth and pink, shiny wet at the tip, and Derek's vision swims. He tears Stiles' jacket and shirt off, baring all that milky-pale, blushy skin, and Scott makes an angry sound, but Derek's the alpha. If he wants this, it's his. Besides, Stiles has taken the edge off for Scott. It's Derek's turn.

Derek kneels up and takes Stiles' pixie face in both hands, nips at Stiles' lips before seizing his tongue, sucking hard as he slides one hand over Stiles' chest, rubbing at dark pink nipples. Scott growls and fucks up into Stiles hard, knocking a sob from Stiles throat, pushing him even closer to Derek.

Derek wraps his arms around the kid's slender waist and lifts, tugging him off Scott's dick with a wet pop.

"Derek," Stiles whines, clinging to him, sweaty and sore and almost drunk on pheromones. It's beautiful. He carries Stiles upstairs, lays him out on an old mattress, and strips. Stiles' sits up, a frown marring his brow.

"Derek, wha--why are you-- _oh_!"

Straddling Stiles, naked, seems to be a good way to shut him up. Derek will have to keep that in mind for future reference.

"Shhh. S'my turn." He shifts around, gets a grip under Stiles' sweaty knees and pushes them to his chest with minimal resistance. Stiles seems shocked, pliable.

"Uh. Oh shit. Derek, really? Please tell me you're kid--oh, God!"

Stiles is a hot, wet mess, _inside_ , so Derek finds himself balls-deep on the first thrust. Stiles seizes up, whimpering.

"S-sorry!" Derek pulls out and fucks back in a few times, trying to find the kid's prostate.

" _Oh_!"

"Yeah," Derek grunts, nailing it again. He settles into really fucking Stiles, hard snaps of his hips that get him deep into Stiles' heat, and Stiles' dick perks up again, pre-come slicking up his pale belly.

"Mnghhh. _Ohhhhh_ , yesss. Oh m-my God, YES." And okay, maybe Derek's okay with Stiles' mouthiness in this situation.

When his gaze catches on that familiar and usually so annoying mouth, dropped open on pleased little cries from the shove of Derek's dick, Derek has to push Stiles' knees apart, has to kiss Stiles, capture every shocked sound. Stiles suddenly bears down on him, wringing at his dick in hard, sweet pulses, and come splatters across Derek's abs. He wolfs out, barely managing to tear his mouth from Stiles and bite the pillow next to the kid's neck when his body shifts. He loses it, filling Stiles up, the wolf intent on obliterating any trace of Scott.

Stiles whimpers and claws at his back and Derek touches his fangs to Stiles' throat, warning him to keep still until it's finished. After the last pulse, they both freeze. Derek knows Scott didn't knot Stiles, wolves don't usually knot when they fuck other males, but Derek's body has decided otherwise and he feels himself swelling, stretching Stiles almost to the breaking point.

Stiles, _his boy,_ is frozen, not even breathing, so the wolf licks soothingly at his neck, hot tongue pressed to the kid's rushing pulse. It moves big, clawed hands across the boy's slender body, massaging taut muscles, soothing the heated, soft skin of his back and belly.

"Mine," the wolf growls, edging its nose behind one delicate ear, scenting the boy.

***

Derek comes back to himself and finds Stiles trying to work himself free from Derek's hold.

"Stop," Derek grouses. Stiles smells so good, feels so good beneath him. Stiles shifts restlessly beneath him and Derek sighs, feeling his soft dick twitch, still inside Stiles.

"Derek?" Stiles sounds weirdly unsure, like maybe Derek's _not_ Derek. Oh.

"Yeah, it's me." Derek eases up, elbows on either side of Stiles' head, and looks down at Stiles. The room's suffused with that pre-dawn, gray light. Plenty for Derek to see by. "You okay?"

Emotions flicker across Stiles' expressive face, but he just nods, mouth gone flat and tight, almost like he's trying not to cry. And that's just scary.

Derek frowns and pulls free, reaching down to touch at the kid's hole.

"Oh God, _don't_!"

Derek ignores the plea, the wave of mortification that sours Stiles' scent.

"Shhh, just need to see if you're torn." He presses his finger into Stiles, feeling the kid's ass still full of his spunk. His dick throbs, wants to go again, but he just scoots down so he can see what he's touching and thank goodness, there's no blood. He keeps fingering Stiles though, watching the raw little mouth cling to his thick finger.

"Wh-what's it look like? Am I--do I need to go to the E.R.?"

"No, just need a good bath." Derek dips in, pressing his hot tongue to the kid's pink balls and Stiles bears down on his finger beautifully.

Then Scott has to go and interrupt.

"DEREK, YOU FUCKER! Get your grubby paws off of Stiles and let me out!"


End file.
